[BLANK]

[chapter 1]

For Raphael Howe, there was nothing out of the ordinary this day, yet. Sunlight spilled through the cover of lush green leaves above to sprinkle the ground, a gentle breeze swished the leaves, and ruffled his ink black hair. Raphael scowled. Grumpily, he flattened his hair and continued walking down the street, ignoring a frightened looking dog whimpering by the footpath. A wanderer. No home left for you, eh? Raphael kicked a stone in front of him. Even that sounds better than repeating everything again.

Another day. Another day where I get to go home and do everything I did yesterday. Clearly unimpressed at his life, the boy thought. If only it could be knocked upside down. By someone... Somehow... But that won't happen. He knew more than enough to stop wishing for things like that. The ordinary is the ordinary. But it'll be fun. Raphael sighed.

Arriving in front of the pale bricked house squished between two others, he trudged to the door and reached for his key in his bag. That's when he realised the door was already open. A thin line of the inside wallpaper showed through the door and the wall. Quite strange. Rather, quite careless. Brushing it aside, he pushed open the door and kicked both his school shoes off for the more comfortable slipper.

"I'm home!" Leaning against the entrance corridor parallel to the rest of the house, Raphael yelled.

......

"Hello? We had a test today!" The second yell also granted no response. "Geez, is everyone having an afternoon nap or what?" Muttering and grumbling, he grabbed his bag and walked into the living room, to find it void of life. Pushing open the door leading to the lounge room and all three bedrooms, it was the same. Without noticing himself, Raphael lightened his footsteps and kept as quiet as possible in the silent atmosphere. It was nearly suffocating.

No one... Told me they weren't gonna be home today. Probably went out on a whim for a sale. Raphael reassured himself, though a little patch of unsettled feeling resided in his stomach. I'll just check the notes on the fridge.

A door slammed shut loudly. Instantly, a relief flooded Raphael and he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Oops! Thought there was no one in the house!" He threw his bag onto his neatly made bed and walked towards the kitchen where the familiar fridge door slamming came from. "Gran, next time please text me or something if you're coming over to help cook dinner. I really thought the house was..."

A glass bowl entered his view, filled with thick red liquid reeking of the raw and metallic smell of blood.

"...deserted." Raphael gaped at the figure standing by the fridge, holding a wooden spoon in one hand and a severed arm in another.

The arm was frozen, but the pile of body parts behind the short white clad figure was still fresh, a trail of crimson blood mixed with older darker blood ran down the counter and dripped onto the floor, gradually forming a puddle of red. Blue eyes wide with utter horror and surprise, Raphael staggered back and backed up into a shelf, knocking several cups over and brought a flower jug upon his head.

"Argh..." Standing up with one hand against his head, Raphael grabbed the flower vase that 'attacked' him, and held it like a weapon against the intruder.

"Down before I even lifted a finger." The figure mused aloud. "Very interesting way of an introduction." The voice belonging to the killer rasped, plain amusement tinging it. "Though it's a pity." He eyed Raphael from beneath the pure white hood. "I don't get to kill you. You would have been fun to kill."

Kill. Word echoed through Raphael's head several times before his mind registered the meaning of the word, and that the person speaking it actually meant it.

The white hood stood still for a moment, and Raphael didn't dare move a muscle either. Although a more appropriate way of saying it would be that he couldn't move a muscle. "Orders, orderss." The white hood hissed, unsatisfied. "Well boy, I would have wanted to play with ya a little, chop off several fingers. Though my time in Heathenia is up." He clicked his fingers. "Please, do me a favour and stay quiet about this." Then he was gone.

As the finger click sounded and strangely echoed through the house, Raphael found himself swaying, then did something he convinced himself no true man will ever do.

He fainted.